


eight o' clock on a friday night

by ravenraiyes



Series: tumblr prompts [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, and bellamy's trying to be funny, but it goes over her head, tired clarke bc nurse shifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenraiyes/pseuds/ravenraiyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s just about to jump onto her bed when a rather loud rendition of Trouble by Imagine Dragons, the ringtone that Bellamy’s set for himself, bursts out of her phone, nearly sending her into cardiac arrest.</p><p>(Which would suck, because she’s not sure she’s ready to go back to the hospital so soon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	eight o' clock on a friday night

Clarke, when sleep deprived and utterly exhausted, is not exactly the brightest tool in the shed.

It’s eight o’ clock on a Friday night - the perfect time for clubbing, Raven would say with a twinkle in her eye, clutch in one hand and a slinky dress in the other - but all Clarke really wants to do is sleep.

She’d been up the past 24 hours, covering Harper’s shift for her after she’d shown up to work, with dark mascara running and eyes watering due to a phone call about a family emergency just minutes prior.

 _“Go!”_  Clarke had pointed to the door, and smiled tiredly, pinning her badge back onto her scrubs, even after all her muscles had screamed at her in protest - she’d just taken the darn thing off, for pete’s sake. “I got it.”

So now she’s in her apartment - she’s surprised she even managed to get here in one piece, with her eyelids already drooping on the cab ride home - and readies herself for bed, yanking off her clothes, muscles screeching in protest at every move she makes.

She’s just about to jump onto her bed when a rather loud rendition of  _Trouble_  by Imagine Dragons, the ringtone that Bellamy’s set for himself, bursts out of her phone, nearly sending her into cardiac arrest.

(Which would suck, because she’s not sure she’s ready to go back to the hospital so soon.)

“Damn it,” she all but growls as she forces her way across the room, already feeling the twinge in her legs from being on her feet all damn day, and picks up the phone grumpily.

“What do you want?” she spits out tiredly - and okay, maybe there’s some crankiness in there too, but Clarke can’t bring herself to really care.

“Woah there princess, glad to see you too,” comes back the reply, smug and arrogant, just like it’s owner, and Clarke swears she can hear her phone crack a little as she clenches it in her palm, fingers digging into the thing in anger.

She’s  _so_  not in the mood for this right now.

“What do you want, Bellamy?” She repeats through gritted teeth, looking at her large comforter longingly, desperately wishing for Bellamy to say that it’s nothing so that she can finally get some damn sleep for once.

“I think you dropped something as you left the apartment last night,” he replies smoothly, voice velvety, deep, and  _confident,_ which is usually the tone he reserves for girls that he picks up at the bar.

(Clarke’s speaking from personal experience here; don’t ask.)

Clarke can feel the wrinkle between her eyes deepen a bit before she blurts out a confused ”Huh?”, brain working in overdrive, already attempting to account for everything important to her just in case she’d actually lost something, like Bellamy had said.

“Yeah,” she can hear the contained snigger on the other line as his rough voice returns in her ear to say, “My jaw.”

“What?” she asks, a little bit dazed, because going twenty four hours without an ounce of sleep isn’t doing Clarke any favors in the cognitive department.

“I’m flirting with you, dumbass,” he chuckles, and she can hear the mirth rising in his tone as her cheeks burn - her brain, even sleep-deprived, can tell when Bellamy’s making fun of her, like he’s doing  _right now_.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “Oh.”

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? complaints? questions? 
> 
> i'm at [ grounderbell](http://grounderbell.tumblr.com/) on tumblr :-) drop by to give me a prompt?


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